


Across the Table

by trubleinmyparadise



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Bi Jeremy, But he doesn't know it yet, I just wanted my son to have a friend, Sorry Not Sorry, This is completely self indulgent, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Trans Michael, but it's small, cursing, dark themes at one point-ish?, female oc - Freeform, first fic heere, okay you know i had to, so have my daughter, ummmmmmm, who also needs a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 08:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11482740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trubleinmyparadise/pseuds/trubleinmyparadise
Summary: Michael was freaking out, but also kind of really depressed.  How was he going to get through to his friend?  Or even begin to find dirt on the stupid computer pill lodged in his brain?  And then Tara slides into his life, wondering what the hell was going on.





	Across the Table

**Author's Note:**

> Wowie wowie, this is exciting, isn't it? Eventually, I'm going to write a fic that isn't OC centered, but that day is not today. I have the second part of this in the works, so if anyone of you reads this and likes it??? Comment down below so I know if you guys want that. I promise it'll be more fun, include more characters, and be hella gayer. I am not trans myself, so if there's any offensive content in here, please tell me! I just love the Michael headcanon that a lot of people have adopted, it makes me happy. Also Tara is my main oc, and she's such a sweet girl, please like her.

That day started out like every other day, the cool kids ignored you, the cool kid wannabes laughed at you, the geeks skittered around in fear of being caught by prowling bullies, and the nobodies floated around the background either hoping someone would cast them a glance, or that they could just disappear… It wasn’t until lunch that I noticed someone had moved up in the food chain.   
In the lunch room, I always sat by myself at the same exact table. But on the same table two other nobodies sat on the other end, every day without fail. They didn’t talk to me, so in turn, I didn’t say a word. Better to just keep my head down… But today, one of them never showed. Except, he did, just not at the right table.   
My blue eyes followed him, the way he just walked past his best friend like he had become one of them, and the other flinched. Curiosity consumed my appetite.  
With a glance down the table, I slid until I was directly in front of the tan boy.   
“Dude, what the hell’s going on with you two? I’ve never seen you guys fight,” he jumped at my voice, eyes leaving his phone. I merely blinked, waiting for an answer.  
“Uh,” his eyes darting to where I always sat, then back to me. “You really wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He sighed, shoulders slumping. He returns to picking at his lunch. Now, I had learned something through my fifteen years of life: if it sounds crazy enough, it’s probably true. Good liars knew to base lies off reality, a fact that carried a whole lot of grief.  
“Try me,” I insist, taking a bite of my salad. Michael takes a deep breath, tapping his foot, gears turning behind his eyes. Debating, debating, and boom, he complies.  
“Well, it’s called a SQUIP and…”

And the next night I was in his basement with our computers trying to find out how we were gonna get a supercomputer out of his best friend’s head. 

“I just don’t know Tara,” he whines, face down on a bean bag chair. It’s week one of Operation: Save Jeremy from CPU Total Takeover. It was kind of saddening how upset Michael was without the guy around. Dependency Issues or True Love™ I will never know… Probably both.   
“We’ll have to find something eventually,” I flop back into the beanbag beside him, onto my back. “This thing has to be the buzz of the tech world. Not to be insensitive, but this is cool as shit by scientific standards. Of course, I’d never take it,” I shiver with a grimace. “I already have enough body dysphoria without that in my head.”   
Michael perks up slightly, eyes catching mine. “Body dysphoria?” I immediately freeze up. Whoops, just made a friend, and mentioning that could put a damper on things. Psyching myself up, and readying to bolt if need be, I turn towards him.  
“Yeah, uh, I was kind of born a dude, not a dudette,” I shrug, pulling my sweater tighter around me. The makeup on my face feels heavy, even if it’s just mascara, eyeliner, and lipstick.   
“Woah, that’s the opposite for me,” he leans his head down on his left arm, quirking a smile. Blinking rapidly, I stare him down.  
“Seriously?” The pressure on my chest lightens, and I search his eyes for any signs of malice. With a fast nod, he sits up more.   
“Totally! Also kind of gay, okay, a lot gay, but yeah…” rubbing the back of his head, he flips around onto his back.   
“Pan as a merry-go-round baby,” I laugh, slumping more, completely at ease. “But uh, nobody else knows, and everyone at school just thinks I’m a girl so like-” He zips his mouth, locks, and throws away the key.  
“Not in the business of giving out secrets, ma’am,” jokingly bowing, he then starts to stand. He offers his hand, and I take it. “Want to go to 7/11 and get unhealthy snacks?”  
“But of course,” I beeline for the door, stomach growling. His laugh trails me.

A month goes by, and though we’re having fun, I can see it still gets to him. Jeremy will walk by us in the halls, Michael’s eyes trailing him, longing for him to turn around and at least say hi, god damn. I know it’s the SQUIP, but since I’ve never held a real conversation with the teen, it was hard to not blame him. He was hurting my friend, and that wasn’t cool. No, none of it was cool, not him, the SQUIP, the popular kids… They were pretty lame, actually. The word Fake came to mind. 

The night of Jake’s party, it was the perfect place to tell Jeremy what we had found out. Michael in his CREEPS sweatshirt, and myself in a black cloak over my regular t-shirt and jeans. Boo.  
“Hey,” I take in Michael’s expression and flushed face. “Are you okay?” With a wince, he drags us over to the side of whatever room we’re in. I can’t tell over all the lights and dancing, drunk teens.   
“No, I think I’m really not,” I have to lean in to hear him.   
“How about we find somewhere quiet?” I suggest, gently grabbing his arm and taking the lead. A bathroom, perfect! He settles in the tub immediately, trying to gain his bearings.   
“I’ll stay here, you go find Jeremy,” he relents after a moment's rest, cheeks red in embarrassment. I nod my head.   
“Sure, you take your time. Social stuff is hard,” I push down my own anxiety, I could do this. Michael needed his best friend, and newly admitted to me, crush, back. I could help my friend, even if it meant my time as the sub was coming to an end.   
The crowd is loud, and I try to skirt the biggest clumps of grinding teenagers. I didn’t need anyone to get too close, lest they feel that I’m missing parts some places, and have extra in others. They probably wouldn’t remember by tomorrow, but still.   
Rich, I recognize him as one of Jeremy’s new friends, is shouting about Mountain Dew Red, and running around like a chicken without a head. I duck away as he bolts past and makes me bump into someone.   
“Hey watch it- oh, it’s you,” the slurred speech and disdain in his voice has me confused. That is until I turn around. Oh, it’s him.  
“Not right now Jackson,” I slip away quickly, the older boy too intoxicated to follow in time. Eventually, everyone’s faces start to blur and look the same, and I can’t tell where I am anymore. Until Jeremy is storming past, coming from the direction of the bathroom, where there is a generous group trying to get inside. Forgetting my main objective, I claw through the crowd to reach the door.   
“Michael! Michael, it’s me!” My voice gets drowned out by the group of girls singing their hearts out in impromptu karaoke. I try the knob, despite knowing it was probably locked. I reach for my phone, trying to call…   
That’s when the smoke hits my lungs and someone screams “FIRE!” I shoot text after text, “Michael the place is on fire,” “please tell me you ditched,” “answer me so I know you’re alright.” Except he doesn’t, instead I hear his ringtone in through the door, and see the notification “read” staring at me from the screen.   
“You idiot,” I breath, and speaking of breathing, it’s getting harder. I hesitate, looking behind myself to see the last few people run for the stairs and flames licking the walls. “God you’re an idiot Michael,” I shoot him one last text. 

“If you don’t leave, I don’t leave.” - read

The lock clicks, and the door is swung open. His face is covered in tear tracks, his expression contorted in anger and defeat. I don’t apologize, instead, I grab his arm and run for the safety of sweet, sweet anywhere but the god damn burning building.

 

When the night of the play comes upon us, and Jeremy’s dad rolls around with a pep talk and promises to wear pants - something I don’t understand because why would you leave the house in your boxers Mr. Heere? - Michael takes me. We had found the answer, Green Mountain Dew activated the stupid pill demon, and Red shut it down. At least we hoped, standing in the back of Spencer’s Gifts as Michael bought the goods while I pretended it was actually illegal and I had finally done something extra. And it did? At least I think it did, there was just a lot of screaming as I called the paramedics, hoping I wasn’t charged for the ambulance cause no, I didn’t want to explain that one to my parents.

I walk into Jeremy’s hospital room with cheap flowers that I had bought in bulk for all the SQUIPed peeps, greeting them with a ‘hello’.   
“Um, who’s she?” The brunet looks worried like he thinks he’s supposed to know me but doesn’t.  
“You know that girl who sits across from us at lunch? Yeah, that’s her.” I set the flower’s down in the Walmart vase they came in on the nightstand beside the bed.   
“How are you?” I flop down into the chair beside Michael, patting the boy’s right shoulder.   
“Did you just dad pat me?” he turns to me in mock surprise, pressing a hand to his chest.   
“Son,” I slightly frown, “don’t talk to your old man that way.” I sober up as Jeremy looks between us, something in his eyes. It’s sad and reminds me of a puppy staring at a closed door. “Sorry, where are my manners. Hi, Tara Simmons, sophomore, sat at your old lunch table so it didn’t seem like I was a complete outcast. Also kind of convinced my friend Hank who lives in Florida now that I was friends with you guys so he wouldn’t worry. He made me send photos as proof, but I swear I’ve deleted them all after sending them.” I manage to say it all with a straight face, and the pale teen can only blink at me.  
“Dad, you’re embarrassing me,” Michael wheezes, consumed with laughter.   
“Uh, Jeremy Heere?” he offers like it’s a question like he’s unsure of his name… Maybe he was holy shit.   
“And I’m Richard Goranski,” the guy on the other side of the room winks. I stare at him deadpan.  
“You’re the guy who set the house on fire,” his face pales. Smooth, Tara, smooth. “Sorry you had to go through that, must have been pretty freaky, having a supercomputer in your brain.”  
Jeremy, once again, glances between me and Michael.  
“Wait, she knows?” His voice cracks. Okay, I can kind of see what Michael likes about him.  
“Yeah, dude! She totally helped me find out how to get rid of the “you-know-what”... And was also my friend while you were gone.” He blushes, and I run a hand through my short, dark blue hair. Yep… replacement friend. Oh well, I have memories and friended him on Facebook, I’ll skype Hank next week and tell him some story founded on reality that I can get away with lying, and… Michael is laughing at something Jeremy has said and turns to see my reaction. It warms my heart, and with a smile, I stand.   
“I’ve gotta go before my brother ditches me,” I wave to Rich, and turn to Michael and his best friend. “Take care of yourself, Michael, you too Jeremy, you guys are too cool to just slack on some good ol’ self-care.” I take a step back. “See you at school guys,” with a salute, I exit the room, cries of ‘goodbye!’ ‘you too’ and the like follow me.   
I double check my face as I exited the hospital, checking for any remains of makeup. I had put some on when I first walked in, afraid to be mistaken, but I had to wipe it off. Jackson hated seeing me with even a hint of mascara, only tolerating my baggy sweaters and skinny jeans.   
“Hey,” I greet quietly, slipping into the passenger seat. I forced my voice to go slightly deeper, more masculine. “We can go now.” Jackson, short brown hair falling onto his forehead in loose curls, just drives. With a sigh, I turn the radio on. Something calm and acoustic bleeds through the speakers. An end of an era, a return to the old.

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to point out the 'dad' bit is something my friends do, we call one of our friends (who is a girl btw) dad and our other friend (boy) mom... Because we're original. Thanks for reading this far!


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